


Remus Rides Sirius' Motorcycle

by simplysirius



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Feels, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, M/M, Moony - Freeform, One Shot, Padfoot - Freeform, Pining, Prongs - Freeform, Relationship(s), Remus x Sirius, sirius x remus, wolfstar, wolfstar angst, wolfstar fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:09:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27049237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplysirius/pseuds/simplysirius
Summary: As a final act of defiance against his mother, Sirius buys himself a motorcycle. No matter how hot he looks perched on the black death trap, Remus absolutely refuses to ride it, until of course, a certain birthday wish.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 1
Kudos: 85





	Remus Rides Sirius' Motorcycle

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr @simplysirius for more writing and fanart!

When Sirius Black finally decided to leave home and seek refuge at the Potters’, he made sure to do two things that would infuriate his mother once more, just for old time’s sake. The first was, of course, to withdraw his entire savings from their family vault in Gringotts, a pile of coin that Walburga kept carefully safeguarded from use. The second was to spend all that money on the one thing he desperately wanted for years but was strictly prohibited from getting. A motorcycle. 

Sirius would spend hours dreaming up his perfect motorcycle, doodling crude sketches in the margins of his notebooks and imagining the wind rushing through his hair while riding his broom and pretending he was sitting on four hundred pounds of firepower. 

It was Sirius’ final act of defiance against his mother, and god did it feel good. 

He had gone back and forth on the color and style, initially wanting a sleek machine in some obnoxiously loud color; maybe bright orange or a blinding turquoise, just to annoy his mother that much more. When a fuchsia bike screamed down the street, people would know exactly who it was. James suggested he get the exhaust pipes fitted with flames or install LED lights to look like the bike was made with skeleton bones. Remus offered no design help, instead only insisting that Sirius get the biggest, ugliest, safest helmet possible. He also suggested kneepads, elbow pads, and goggles, all of which Sirius kindly ignored with a sarcastic kiss to Remus’ forehead.

Eventually, Sirius settled on a solid black motorcycle, the fiberglass polished to a glaring shine, the engine and piping a matte tar that only drew more attention to the pristine bodywork. When he saw it sitting across the lot amongst a sea of other options, Sirius knew he had found his match. His hand dropped from Remus’ as he made his way over, mesmerized by the way the London sun bounced off the gas cover. Remus lagged behind, still skeptical about the whole situation, but when he saw Sirius swing his leg over the bike, shoulders leaning towards the handlebars, feet finding the pegs, the plush seat perking the curve of his ass just right, well, Remus decided maybe it wasn’t the worst thing to ever happen. 

But Remus Lupin would not, absolutely under no condition, ever ride that death trap. 

“You’re telling me that you, a part-time werewolf, won’t ride a motorcycle because it’s dangerous?” Sirius complained, spinning the keys around one slender figure, waiting for Remus to climb on behind him.

“That’s right,” Remus nodded, resolute, his arms crossed on his chest. He kept his distance from the bike, more than willing to find a bicycle or even a small, lazy pony to ride back to the Potters’. The next city bus wasn’t due for an hour, but Remus didn’t mind waiting.

Sirius rolled his eyes, inserting the key into the ignition. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on. Besides, you’ve proven to be an excellent rider.”

“Jesus Christ,” Remus groaned, hands flying to hide his cheeks, flushed a bright crimson. Sirius grinned and revved the engine, the booming ignition crackling Remus’ ears. About to rocket off into the street, Remus bravely stepped in front of the headlight, pointing a wagging finger in Sirius’ face. “Put your helmet on or I swear to god–”

“Yes, mother,” Sirius shouted over the roar of the engine, peering out at Remus from underneath raised eyebrows. He reached behind him and unlocked the rear compartment, securing the sleek black helmet on his head. Remus had made the salesman triple check to make sure it was the right size. 

And with that, Sirius sped out of the parking lot and onto the busy London street, teetering a little when he dropped off the curb, making Remus’ heart lurch into his throat. Remus shook his head; out of all the hopeless, idiotic, devastatingly handsome boys he could’ve had, of course he would pick this one. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Months later, Sirius was still begging Remus to go for a ride with him – even just down the driveway and back, Remus! – and Remus was still adamantly refusing – the driveway is uneven and what if the bike slips on a rock, Sirius? It was a daily occurrence, a conversation held even more frequently than James droning on about some new Quidditch move he saw. When the boys moved back to Hogwarts for their sixth year, Sirius begrudgingly left the motorcycle in the Potters’ shed, Euphemia promising to dust it every week and keep it safe. 

To pass the time, Sirius tried riding his broom across the fjords around the castle, but it just wasn’t the same; there was something about sitting on a hunk of vibrating metal, revving the engine and weaving in and out of passing cars with mere inches to spare that made his heart beat in his ears and his skin prickle.

In early November, Remus and Sirius lay on their bed – they had pushed their individual beds together to create one massive mega-bed – with their legs intertwined and foreheads pressing together.

“You never told me what you want for your birthday,” Remus said, poking Sirius’ cheek.

“I want my motorcycle,” Sirius pouted, puffing up his cheeks like a hungry chipmunk.

Remus sighed. “I was thinking more like a date in Hogsmeade.”

“Boring,” Sirius rejected. “You know what’s not boring? A motorcycle.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I don’t know what that means, but thank you,” Sirius smiled, leaning over and pressing a quiet kiss to Remus’ lips.

Of course, Remus had already arranged the perfect birthday gift for Sirius. It required impeccable timing and a careful strategic plan, but he was fairly confident that, with a little help from James, he could make it work.

Just after sundown on Sirius’ birthday, after twelve hours of Sirius asking when he was finally going to get his birthday present, Remus and James escorted him out of the castle under the invisibility cloak, following the familiar path to the Whomping Willow.

“Did I miss the memo? Is there a moon tonight?” Sirius asked, feeling the familiar ground under his feet. He could walk to that damned tree in his sleep.

“Your eyes are supposed to be closed,” James chastised, elbowing him in the gut.

“They are,” Sirius insisted, but James clasped his hands over his face anyways. 

When they reached the grassy expanse just beyond the tree, Remus smiled, nodding at the shadowy figure in front of them. At once, the figure disappeared with an echoing crack like lightning, and Sirius nearly jumped out of his tight jeans.

“Who the hell is apparating?” He yelled, trying to shake James’ hands off his head to no avail.

Remus steadied Sirius’ shoulders. “Ready for your present?”

“This better not be some weird ménage-á-trois fantasy, Remus,” Sirius warned. James cackled like a hyena and Remus punched his shoulder.

“Not even close,” Remus huffed. James removed his hands, allowing Sirius to finally lay eyes on his birthday present. “Happy birthday, Pads.”

Sirius screamed when he saw his motorcycle. Not even a manly, burly gasp; a full-on girlish shriek that rivaled the time Lily accidentally ate a real frog instead of a chocolate frog – James was still paying for that one. He ran over to the bike, running his fingers along the cool metal, as if he wasn’t sure it was really in front of him, and then rushed at Remus with open arms. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he mumbled, pressing a thousand kisses to any exposed area of skin he could find. “How did it get here?”

Beside them, James huffed, throwing his hands in the air. “What, am I chopped liver over here?”

Sirius abandoned Remus for only a moment, wrapping James in a rough embrace and leaving an enthusiastic, wet kiss on his cheek. 

“James’ mom brought it. We only have until the sun comes up before she takes it back to the house. McGonagall would kill us if she saw it,” Remus explained, though Sirius was hardly listening as he mounted his iron horse. It was only then that he saw two helmets resting on the seat. He glanced up, eyes wide, as Remus gingerly placed the second helmet on his head.

“If you drive any faster than five miles an hour I promise I will kill you,” Remus threatened, hoisting his leg up and over the seat. He pressed his chest up against Sirius’ back and wrapped his arms around his waist so tightly that he could have very well shattered a couple ribs. 

Sirius smiled, adjusting his hips just slightly to fit better between Remus’ legs – which earned him a suppressed sigh – and awakened the dormant engine with a deafening roar. James waved goodbye as Sirius found the accelerator, encouraging the bike forward at a snail’s speed. It was so slow that the bike almost wouldn’t balance correctly and Sirius kept his legs hanging just off the ground for support. 

He glanced back at Remus for just a moment, laughing as he took in Remus’ eyes squeezed shut, head dug into the crook of Sirius’ shoulder. “How’s it going?”

“Watch the road!” Remus shouted.

“We’re in a field, there is no road!” Sirius was right; there were no roads in sight. Maybe he should change that. “Hey Moony? Hold on tight.”

Before Remus could react and throw himself off the bike, Sirius hammered the accelerator with one hand, the other finding his wand in the innermost pocket of his jacket. Remus screamed as the bike careened across the field at a breakneck pace, dirt kicking up and dust spewing in their wake. Headed directly for the tree line, Remus was sure that Sirius had finally lost his mind, but he was too frozen in fear to think to do anything. He braced for impact.

Moments later, Remus felt weightless with the cool night air under his feet, and he figured this is what the afterlife must feel like. He opened his eyes and his stomach immediately dropped to his ass.

The motorcycle was no longer barreling towards the bank of trees. It was above the trees, soaring over the great lake and curling around steep mountainsides. They had to be at least a thousand feet off the ground; Remus couldn’t look down without feeling his dinner burning at the back of his throat.

“Sirius Black-!”

“You said I couldn’t drive fast, you didn’t say anything about flying!” Sirius grinned wickedly.

“It was implied!”


End file.
